


Near and Far

by London_Fog



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dating, Fluff, M/M, Seriously this is tooth-aching fluff here okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London_Fog/pseuds/London_Fog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re on a date, but they’re not on a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Near and Far

**Author's Note:**

> Silly piece inspired by some Korean telly I chanced upon while channel surfing. Consider this the prelude to ‘Oui/I do’, or at least set in the same verse.

“I don’t understand why we have to do this.” Arthur said in extreme displeasure. “We should be allowed to date who we want, when we want to, not when it’s politically convenient. Or in most cases, economically convenient. Or militarily convenient.”

“ _Mon cher_ ,” Francis crooned softly, “That is a discussion that has failed to bear any fruit for centuries. For now, perhaps we should just enjoy our date.”

“A date? This isn’t a bloody date.” Arthur snapped into the cellphone that he held in his hand, all the while glaring furiously at Francis, who was sat some several tables away, his own cellphone pressed to his ear. Bright Parisian sunlight poured down on the café they were seated at, and somewhere, ‘La vie en Rose’ was playing. It was all terribly cliché and very Francis. “This is… this is… I don’t know what the hell this is.” Arthur sighed, slumping in his seat. A waiter shot him a dirty look as he approached Arthur.

“Are you _Anglais, monsieur_?” The waiter inquired in thickly accented English. Arthur shot him an equally dirty look to match that.

“Yes, but I can bloody speak French as well. I’ve been speaking it for years, thanks.”

The waiter rolled his eyes. “Then, what would be your order, monsieur?”

“Earl Grey. Two sugars and milk.” On the cellphone, Arthur hears Francis giggle. “And a plate of scones.”

“We don’t serve scones here, perhaps you would like a choice of _petit fours_? It is most critically acclaimed in all of Paris.”

“That is true, Arthur.” Francis says, and Arthur catches him watching with a smile playing on his face. “I have tried it, and can vouch for that.”

Arthur sighed. “Alright, I’ll take that, then. That’s all for now.” The waiter bowed, and retreated back into the indoors of the café. Arthur returned his attention to Francis. “Is this really necessary?”

“Believe me, my dear, I only wish for this to be different.” Francis smiles wistfully. “I’d like to hold your face and kiss you, and I’d like to brush your hair and embrace your hands.” Arthur blushed. “Alas, circumstances do not allow for such pleasantries.”

“We should go somewhere else next time. Somewhere where people can’t recognise us.” Arthur said, displeased. Right now, he was fighting the urge to not sprint pass the tables and drag Francis into a very, very deep hug.

“A holiday sounds good.” Francis said, “How about Russia?”

“Too cold.”

“Greece?”

“Too hot.”

“China?”

“I think Wang Yao might still be displeased with me.” Arthur groaned. “I’m not making this any easier, am I?”

“No, you’re not indeed.” Francis said softly. “But I do enjoy a challenge.” Arthur snorted.

“You say that because it’s the honeymoon period.”

“My love, we have been together for centuries. Wars notwithstanding, everyday must be our honeymoon period, if we are still at that stage.”

The waiter returned, laying out his tea and cake onto his table. Arthur nodded his thanks, and the waiter moved away to attend to someone else. “Should I actually eat this? It looks good, but what if he spat in my cake?”

Francis snorted in amusement. “Oh, love. _Never change_.”  


End file.
